


greed feed

by C0LUMBINE



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Sexual Experimentation, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18535942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C0LUMBINE/pseuds/C0LUMBINE
Summary: He tells Tyler, "I want you to hit me," and Tyler's eyes widen with bewilderment in such a natural, unstrained way that it forces tears into Josh's eyes.Josh thinks they should talk. He and Tyler should talk.





	greed feed

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this thing has been sitting in my fic folder for a while and i finally decided to finish it because i promised i would eventually, then months passed and i never did. this is a fresh take on something i've deleted a few years ago, hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr - @ joshdunfiles :^)

It all starts out as something silly, almost like a joke, then it evolves into something more confusing and serious than funny and there's no more laughing involved in the conversation. When Josh tells Tyler about it, his hands are shaking so terribly bad that Tyler has to grab them with his own, both of them distracted from words.

Tyler had never seen Josh in such a distressed state as he had on the night that particular topic had been brought up. With ear-piercing silence filling the tour bus and smoke hanging thick in the air of the back lounge, Josh admits with heated embarrassment that he wants to be hit. Out of all the words he's familiar with, fear allows him to use the shortest, most vague description of what he secretly desires. He tells Tyler, "I want you to hit me," and Tyler's eyes widen with bewilderment in such a natural, unstrained way that it forces tears into Josh's eyes. 

It sounds wrong, like it should have never even gotten close to spilling out of Josh's mouth, but it does, and he can't turn back time to shield himself from exposure and judgment. After all, Tyler did not agree to take care of this area of Josh's life when he allowed him to join the band. He is not obliged to listen and try to understand.

But Josh doesn't blame him. He doesn't blame Tyler for not knowing what to say. If they were to switch the roles, he wouldn't have known what to say either. It's not a common thing for him to hear someone talk about those things. But Josh thinks they should talk. He and Tyler should talk. 

Instead of talking, Josh inhales and coughs and exhales more smoke, listening to the silent sound of confusion he brought upon himself.

* * * 

They bring the topic back a few months later, after providing some time for their relationship to grow and develop just a little more. Nothing much changes, as they have already been in the stage of full enchantment before they made such a decision, but an improvement in comfort occurs. Things are not anymore led by fear of rejection and become more flexible, moving around like a joint rather than bending and threatening to break. It's a big step in the right direction, even though they still aren't standing in the same spot. But they're taking steps, always forward, chasing each other but never quite getting to that spot in the far, far distance.

It's been a while since they have last gotten a chance to be intimate with each other. With life on tour being hasty, many aspects of it were bound to change. Josh doesn't remember when exactly they had stopped taking showers together, but he misses the scent of Tyler's sensitive body wash and the feeling of his fingers tangled in his hair whenever he helped wash it, sneaking in some conditioner when Josh wasn't looking.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Josh can confidently admit that he doesn't mind seeing blood on his fingers during a show, spilling all over his shorts and staining the drumsticks, because Tyler immediately agrees to help with sorting everything out once they're off stage. He leads Josh to his dressing room and tells him to sit and wait patiently while he scrambles for some sort of solution that doesn't need the assistance of another person.

Tyler crouches in front of him and presses an ice cube he fished out of the freezer, neatly wrapped in a small, plastic bag, to each of Josh's bleeding fingers, one by one. It's all a product of blisters, ignored, not taken care of and abused to the point of the skin giving up and tearing.

Josh looks down at him but sees no compassion or empathy whatsoever. Tyler's eyes are cold and emotionless. He begins to wonder whether Tyler ever found the time to sleep, hoping it's just exhaustion playing its part. There have been times when he would hear music coming from Tyler's bunk and see colors flashing against the curtains when he woke up to take a sip of water late at night, and it was worrying at times. 

Tyler presses harder. Josh can't help but whimper. It really hurts.

"Has anybody ever done anything that, um. That made you realize that about yourself?" Tyler tilts his head up and meets Josh's wide, confused eyes. Josh doesn't get the question at first, waiting for guidance. "When you told me you wanted me to hit you. It just- it made me think."

"Oh. Uh, you kinda have." Tyler's eyes light up in the same way they did the first time they discussed this and it makes Josh's skin crawl. "Like, five, six years ago."

Tyler hesitates before moving onto Josh's ring finger. He searches through all the shelves in his mind and finds what could have been the first match to start this fire. At a show, back in the old days, when the lights were dim and barely any phones were pointed in their direction, he went for it. He smacked Josh's ass, and it was all supposed to stay there, between the walls of that venue. He turned around right after, but Josh was still focused on hitting the right keys on the keyboard Tyler told him to play that night and didn't give a solid reaction, so Tyler huffed and moved on, hoping Josh did, too. 

"Man, I had no idea. I should have let you talk about it when you wanted to," Tyler says, chewing on his bottom lip. 

The last thing Josh wants is for Tyler to feel guilty and when he looks a little harder, he sees guilt painted across Tyler's face. He shifts in his spot and squeezes Tyler's hand.

"Hey, it's all fine. I was just being an idiot, can you- can you keep going?" Josh asks, choosing to escape the topic before it escalates. 

Tyler nods, and says, "Yeah, okay."

He finds bandaids. The kind of bandaids one would buy for their children to make minor injuries feel even less serious, but he finds them. The dinosaur print makes them both smile lightly, there's even a chuckle, even though Josh's fingers still sting underneath the layer of protection, especially when he tries to bend them. Tyler smacks his hand to stop him from doing so, and it leads to unavoidable eye contact.

Tyler means well, and Josh knows that. Tyler is known for being a little gritty, a little bit cold. Josh can always tell when things don't click between him and a stranger he meets for the first time and he's always well aware of which side the fault lies on. He approaches things with a pinch of bitterness and dryness, but Josh knows that the side of Tyler he gets to see when they're alone is the most genuine side of all. 

His mannerisms can confuse a person who had never interacted with him before, but Josh knows how to decipher everything he does and knows what lies at the bottom. It's always good intentions. It's always hard tries of understanding and comforting. Josh knows that he doesn't have to dig deep to get to his soft side, because it's always available for him. So why is it so difficult to believe that he shouldn't be terrified of being vulnerable? 

"Would you still let me do it?" Tyler asks. His voice is soft and broken, and at this point, it's just its default state. Being a singer had its downsides for sure.

Josh swallows thickly and looks to the side. "Yeah. Yeah, I would."

Tyler tilts his head curiously. "So, you've been thinking about it?" 

Josh stumbles over his words and nothing but a breath comes out when Tyler puts his hand on his thigh. "Mhm." Josh nods.

Tyler laughs quietly. "I kept you waiting for a while, huh?" A shudder shakes up Josh's body. "You deserve to feel good, Josh. And if you want to, then, y'know. We can switch places and see what happens."

"Okay. Okay, yeah."

"Alright."

Josh gets up and Tyler eagerly takes his spot. Josh takes a deep breath before turning around to face him again and he's glad he did as soon as he's presented with the sight of his legs spread and waiting, just patiently waiting to accept him. This is okay. Josh wants it to be okay and feels like it's his own job to make it feel that way. So he lies down, trying his best not to hurt Tyler's thighs with all the weight he applies to them, but Tyler doesn't make the slightest of sounds. He just waits for Josh to make himself comfortable, keeping his hands to himself not to interrupt.

When Josh is finally steady enough and no longer adjusting anything, Tyler asks, "Ready?"

"Yeah." 

"I don't have a number in mind. Just wanna see how much you can take," Tyler says, putting his hand on the back of Josh's head mid-sentence and feeling his soft hair. Dark. Just how he likes it best. "You can count for me. Don't have to, though. 'S up to you."

Josh nods again and that's when Tyler's hand disappears and joins the other one to slowly pull down his shorts and leggings. Josh feels a shiver making its way down his spine, so, so slowly that it makes all the unshaved hair on his arms and neck stand along the way. Josh feels the last remains of post-show might and confidence wither away and make space for adrenaline and weakness. He gasps as soon as Tyler's hand reaches his ass, caressing, kneading, taking it easy. Tyler can feel Josh's cock pressing against thigh, but he's most definitely not hard yet. It's all in the way he decided to lie down.

Josh tries to hold on to something and ends up gripping one of the nearby cushions. He squeezes it lightly to relieve some stress. Trying to quell the mix of feelings inside his belly is a difficult task. Desperation, chunks of fear and arousal are all swishing around inside of him and making everything more intense than it truly is so far.

The first slap comes unexpectedly. Tyler doesn't give Josh any sort of a warning before raising his hand and then bringing it back down with as much force as he thinks is appropriate for the first try. Josh jolts forward and yelps loudly, not expecting it to happen so suddenly. He lets out a breathy "one", trying his best to remain collected. Counting should make this easier.

Tyler nods to himself, bottom lip tucked under his upper teeth, then treats Josh to another slap, aiming for his right cheek this time and increasing the intensity. His hand bounces off and is immediately replaced with an imprint of it, so perfectly visible that Tyler can almost count his own fingers on Josh's skin for that split second before they fade away. He mumbles something undecipherable under his breath and hears Josh's quiet, shaky voice deliver the next number. 

Tyler presses a gentle finger to the mark on Josh's ass and impatiently awaits response. He digs harder, adding more fingers and bending them to scrape his skin with his nails. Josh whimpers and presses back, the only right way to ask for more without using words and sounding desperate. Tyler huffs out a quiet laugh and removes his hand.

Three, four and five come together in a row, no spaces in between for Josh to gather composure or count out loud. He cries out louder with each blow and helplessly bucks his hips. It stings, pain intensifying with each merciless second.

"God, Josh, you're amazing," Tyler says, finally, his voice pulling Josh down before he loses the ground beneath his feet. Josh sniffles but doesn't reply, understandably overwhelmed and unable to find his words. "So good. You're so good. Gonna give you more."

Tyler cannot refuse to give him what he wants. When the sixth slap comes, experimental, aimed from a slightly different angle, Josh's skin breaks out in goosebumps and his hands begin to shake. It soon spreads through his entire body and he's trembling in Tyler's lap, all of his nerves set on fire. He's panting and whining unabashedly, wishing he could see Tyler's face to determine whether he's watching him with admiration or judgment. He takes a moment to imagine both, and the latter turns out to be more enticing. 

Josh's dick twitches and bumps lightly into Tyler's thigh, getting harder. He can't help but try to rub the sensitive head against Tyler's leg, and Tyler just allows it. He encourages it, almost, with a quiet grunt.

"Four more, yeah?" he asks before it goes too far, giving Josh a few seconds to calm down before delivering another slap, and this time it's more painful than all of the previous ones taken together. Josh feels as if he's giving up the last ounces of his own dignity when he begins to pay too much attention to his own, keening sounds. The sensation is hard to describe, but it's intense and degrading but in a strangely exciting way. It stings, burns, it's pain, discomfort, it's pleasure, fulfillment. It's exactly what Josh anticipated and wanted. God, it's exactly what he wanted.

Tyler gets an idea, and his curious mind pushes him to try it out right away. He rests his left hand on Josh's ass and rubs circles with his thumb where inflamed handprints remain, his right hand tracing patterns along Josh's spine, connecting freckles. Josh whines quietly and Tyler coos to shush him.

"You okay?" he asks. Josh nods lightly. "I could use my fingers, y'know. It'll feel good, promise."

"Please," Josh spits out. It hits him for a moment that he's probably too eager, that maybe they should stop before things get out of control, but Tyler's composure is astounding. His voice is quiet and comforting and Josh is too tender and soft to think too much. He wants everything that Tyler has to offer.

Tyler doesn't have much time to experiment, because it only takes one, two slick fingers pressed inside, deeper, just a little deeper, reaching the right spot, and Josh is there. Tyler pushes in and out in a rush, even though Josh is already shaking in his lap and whining. 

Tyler's mouth hangs open when he begins to feel wetness seeping through the leg of his pants, sticky on his skin, and realizes that it's Josh's cum spurting out and smearing where Josh presses his cock. Tyler fights the urge to reach for it and guide him through his orgasm but decides not to interfere in the end. Josh grips his pillow tighter and pants loudly, rubbing off on Tyler's thigh. Tyler finds watching him come like this, untouched, desperate, pushed hard enough to be able to do this, very immersive.

Josh goes quiet within seconds. His cock is still dripping and hanging heavily between his thighs and he's completely drained but satisfied nonetheless. There are tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and threatening to roll down his flushed cheeks. His breath almost sounds like a wheeze after wheeze after wheeze.

Tyler gives his own dick a good squeeze, but that's all he gets. This isn't about him. He lets go and focuses on Josh instead.

"You did so well, Josh," he says, messing with his hair, twirling a curl between his fingers, trying to comfort. "Gonna help you get up now, 'kay?"

Josh can only nod in agreement. Tyler pulls his shorts back up, gently tucking his dick into them to avoid hurting him and holds Josh's hand as he tries to get back to his feet and maintain his balance. 

"C'mere now," Tyler mumbles. He doesn't have to wait long, because Josh quickly plops himself by his side and presses his face against Tyler's chest. Tyler lets out a quiet, surprised sound and tilts to the side with how much force Josh puts into this. He cannot hear much, but he understands perfectly well what's happening. He wraps his arm around Josh's waist and sighs. "Aw, man, it's okay. Let it out, it's okay."

Josh does. Not because he wants to, but because he can't help it. He feels decompressed, mushy almost, as if a knot that's been forming somewhere deep inside of him and bothering him has just been untied and began to dissolve. He gets tears and snot on Tyler's shirt, but Tyler doesn't mind at all. He pats his back gently and presses a kiss to the top of Josh's head, and then another one. And another one. And then a couple more for good measure.

He doesn't mind at all, and Josh knows that now. And that keeps him going.


End file.
